


Kartik & Aman

by HackedByAWriter, mehan kartik (daydreamingstoryteller)



Category: Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan (2020)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Epic Poetry, F/M, Love, Love Stories, M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:48:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24898714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HackedByAWriter/pseuds/HackedByAWriter, https://archiveofourown.org/users/daydreamingstoryteller/pseuds/mehan%20kartik
Summary: On the path to true love, there are always complications.After all, where’s the magic in a simple love story?Don't just read our story....feel it.
Relationships: Kartik Singh/Aman Tripathi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	Kartik & Aman

**Author's Note:**

> Sargun (hackedbyawriter) and I started planning this like more than 2 months ago. We finished in within a week or two but basically this was done by two undergrads who happen to be English/linguistics majors while we were on a midnight fever high. And it took us a few weeks to post on Instagram and a whole month or more before posting it here. We initially wanted to expand on this and make it longer but this is very succinct and powerful as is. So here it is. Hope you like it! <3 - Mehan
> 
> (also this is Hitesh approved so we're even more proud than we already were of this XD)

**i.**

Sahiba’s hands are stained bridal red

her dress glitters like a wound

at the sound of her brother’s horses riding, 

heralding her lover’s doom, she grasps the arrows 

from Mirza’s side and breaks them

_ blood,  _ she thought,  _ was stronger than  _

_ love after all, surely they will understand _

they did not, they never could

an arrow in the lover’s throat, by a brother's hand 

Mirza reaches for his broken shafts

betrayal laden in his eyes

like the arrows in her back

Kartik’s skin is stained purple and blue, 

with the wounds of a father’s pride

the sound of Aman’s horse

heralds their damnation

_ education _ _,_ he’d thought,  _ was stronger than _

_ hate after all, surely they will understand _

they did not, they never could

a noose around a son’s life, by his father’s hand 

so he grasps the kaali gobis

breaks them apart to show

that science can’t defeat them

nature will always grow

** ii. **

Majnu was a madman, a saint

long before the burnished dust 

from broken lips comes broken prayers

whispered to broken stone

_ Laila, Laila, Laila _

he writes her name in the burning sand

for him she is God

he carves on her tombstone

poems she can never hear

for she is cold and long dead

He was already lost and broken

long before it happened again

before he roamed deserted stations

his lips red from one last kiss

as his breath whispered, into the night

_ Jack and johnny went up the hill _

_ To live and love and laughter _

_ Jack ki lai li papa ne _

_ Aur Johnny chup gaya bhag kar _

a prayer and a war cry 

all one and the same

** iii.  **

Ranja’s home was in the jeweled sky

and the golden fields

for blood brothers held no sway

against salt sisters

with sweet laments and 

his flute, he would lay 

his head against Heer’s thigh

_ home is you in life or death _

fate held them true, two poisoned halves

by a father’s hand, a fakir and a widow lie dead

their songs now writ, in blades 

coated in blood and sugar

Kartik’s home was nowhere

his own blood cast him away

Punjab was left forgotten

in the ashes of his pain

yet with sweet voices of a childhood 

and memories of rare happy times

he would lay his head against 

Aman’s own, caress his face and promise

_ home is you in life or death _

one father brought them together

another one tore them up

two young boys painted red

with the broken shards of each other’s hearts

coated in blood and sugar

** iv.  **

Sohni’s hand spurned, the barat and

she would paint, clay pitchers

that would drift her towards

her lover Mahiwal, 

they met by holy rivers

years of silver fish,

shimmering iridescent

and bloodied thighs in ashes, in the end

broken pitchers drowned them both

Aman’s hands held up in prayer

near the temple of his land

he met his lover by the holy river

where his childhood and innocence, once swam

and by that very river Ganga

did they drown their hopes and love

a future once promised 

a future now perished

** v.  **

Sassi was born, a curse, a blight on

her father’s white turban

the river Sindhu turned her holy

Punnun were royalty with tattered clothes 

and gold coins to his name

in the end it did not matter

they were both buried 

in nameless mountain graves

Aman was born, loved by one and all

yet his love only blossomed

when Kartik turned it into his home

blessed by family he was

with pride to his name

in the end it did not matter

for he was buried by their own hands

into a backyard grave, renamed

** vi.  **

Allahabad was supposed to be salvation,

the Prayagraj, 

a place for peace and harmony

yet all it offered them were shackles,

of love and family

the holy rivers accept all

\- yet those that lived did not

it’s presence did nothing to cure,

the sin in other’s eyes

From Kartik’s back bloomed,

ugly roses on scarred skin

veiled in all the colours of the universe, 

the spliced nebula of Orion’s belt 

_ I know no courage but this _

Aman’s furtive steps echo, 

through the threshold, it is not fear

nor cowardice that drives him,

but a deal with the devil himself

_ I know no love but yours _

** vii.  **

_ How can our end be happy? _

They will ask to which, I say only this

_ I am no Heer, you are no Ranja, nor are we the rest _

we are not like those before us 

_ qurbaani, shahid, martyrs of love _

_ \- we can never be like any of them _

let them have their songs, their remembrance

their immortality lies in the dust

I rather that our hands remain unstained

I rather that blood was never split in our name

For we have our own hymns, our own fights to win

our plight is not without ease - yet it is one without sin

we will take these stories turn them upside down

for no love deserves, the tears of blood, 

no love deserves a marred corpse

we’ll show them how we’d rather have it done

And when death finally comes, as it will for everything

it won’t be our last stand nor will it be our curtain call

our hearts will still sing each other’s song 

long after the music fades away

_ ‘ You are enough’ _

it will whisper into the night sky, as we once did ourselves

under the stars and street lamps

where we’d wandered, uncaring of eyes that judge

we’d written our own love, darling

into every place we’ve touched 

when we no longer speak,

the walls will do so for us

they will echo our love story and it will pass 

from minds, to souls, to hearts

_ we are our own epic _

our story is one that will stay

the epic that truly matters

one that is filled with darkness

and pinpricks of blinding hope

for stars can only shine

where the shadows are abound

so worry not about right now, 

the pain that might befall us on this journey

they will come together to make us brighter

and our ending sweet 

besides, my love, touch your heart

and tell me if this isn’t true, 

will it ever be a good love story,

if there aren't a few struggles to get through?

* * *

Our posts of this poem on instagram has some colour symbolism in the verses and visuals too. We'd love it if you could take a look at them!  
  
Here is [Sargun's post](https://www.instagram.com/p/CBLBSK7nvKC/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link) and here is [mine.](https://www.instagram.com/p/CBLBRCxlQ5A/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link) <3 Thanks for reading this guys :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [let's rewrite our history](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25576222) by [mehan kartik (daydreamingstoryteller)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daydreamingstoryteller/pseuds/mehan%20kartik)




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